


Derek Hale - Mailbox Wrangler

by rieraclaelin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Awkward Derek, Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, POV Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 17:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12137391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rieraclaelin/pseuds/rieraclaelin
Summary: Derek Hale was a smart man. He was. His brain tended to forget that, though, whenever he caught sight of his neighbor.





	Derek Hale - Mailbox Wrangler

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Smowkie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smowkie/gifts).



> This was written for Smowkie's birthday. Happy Birthday! I hope you enjoy this!
> 
> Lightly betaed and edited. Also, posted this from my phone, so, hopefully there are no mistakes from that!

> Derek Hale was a smart man. He was. His brain tended to forget that, though, whenever he caught sight of his neighbor. All thoughts and plans for the rest of his day would fly away the second he saw those moles, the lips that always seemed to be smiling, and those  _ eyes _ .
> 
> The first time Derek heard his neighbor laugh,, he almost tripped over the mailbox. Derek's ears burned the whole way back into his house, and it wasn't until he closed the front door that he realized he forgot the mail. It could just wait until later. Much later. Preferably after everyone else on the street would be sound asleep.
> 
> \----
> 
> “Your man is out mowing the grass again, Hale.”
> 
> “He's not my man, Reyes, and get away from that window.”
> 
> “Well, he could be your man. You know, if you ever decided to put on your big boy pants and go introduce yourself.”
> 
> Derek tried to glare Erica into silence, but judging by how hot his ears were burning, and by Erica's laughter, he wasn't very effective.  
> 
> “Seriously, though, do you even know his name?  Or will we be referring to him as ‘hot stud muffin’ the rest of our lives?” Erica asked, then laughed  _ again _ when Derek hit her with a pillow.
> 
> “First of all, I called him ‘cute neighbor’, not 'hot stud muffin’.” Derek threatened to throw another pillow at Erica’s snort. “Second of all,  _ please  _ get away from that window before he sees you?”
> 
> “Tell you what, Hale. If you promise to go introduce yourself sometime within the next lifetime, I will move away.”
> 
> Derek sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I will, I promise. Just. Give me time?”
> 
> “You've lived here two months already. Just get it over with. In fact, why don't you just go out there, right now. Look, he's clearly hot, he's covered in sweat. Offer him a glass of water.”
> 
> Derek grabbed Erica's hand and pulled her away from the window. He absolutely did not take a quick peek out the window to watch his neighbor mowing the grass. With his shirt off, and those broad shoulders covered in a sheen of sweat, and the way his muscles shifted when...
> 
> Erica's sparkling eyes and knowing grin made Derek want to growl as he stomped his way out of the living room.
> 
> \----
> 
> With one last swipe of red paint on the giant canvas, Derek took a step back. The canvas leaned against the mailbox. Laci, Laura's daughter, stood beside him and after an intense study of the picture, she turned to look at Derek and gave a thumbs up.  
> 
> “Thanks, Uncle Derek! I can't believe my art teacher wanted us to ask our whole family to make something for our school art fair,” Laci sighed. Derek ruffled the top of her hair and grinned at her glare. Laura always said she got her judgy stare from him.
> 
> “Hi!” Laci shouted as she turned to look behind Derek. She started waving her arm wildly.
> 
> “Well, hello there!”
> 
> Derek whirled around at the sound of his neighbor's voice, and slammed his elbow against the mailbox. He hissed in pain and brought his elbow up to rub it, but forgot that he still held his paintbrush. Derek stood there mortified with his cheek painted red and his niece giggling beside him while his neighbor bit his lip, clearly trying not to laugh.
> 
> “My name is Laci. What's your name?”
> 
> “I'm Stiles. Very nice to meet you, Laci,” Stiles said as he reached out to shake the hand Laci was waving around in front of her. He looked back at Derek and raised an eyebrow, and Derek felt his stomach flutter.
> 
> “I'm- I mean- This is…” Derek took a deep breath. “I should probably clean this up,” he said, waving his hand by his cheek. He grit his teeth and started back to the house, thankful that the red paint was actually covering the redness that he knew was all over his face. His elbow throbbed, his cheeks burned, and all he wanted to do was hide away inside his house until Stiles went away.
> 
> “Wait for me, Uncle Derek!” Laci yelled as she raced ahead of him to open the door.
> 
> \----
> 
> Derek pulled his mail out of the mailbox and started flipping through it. Advertisements, bills, coupons. Mostly recyclables.
> 
> “Hey, dude, I think some of your mail was delivered-”
> 
> Derek startled and slammed the top of his hand against the bottom of the mailbox. His mail went flying through the air. Derek slowly turned to face Stiles, fully expecting to see him biting back laughter. Instead, Stiles was frowning and looked mostly concerned.  
> 
> “We really need to stop meeting like this, you know,” Stiles said, then he dropped his eyes to Derek's hands and his eyes widened.  
> 
> “You are bleeding. Why didn't you tell me you were hurt? Come on, let's go get that cleaned up.”
> 
> Derek shook his head and clutched his hand to his chest. “No, it's, uh, it's okay. I can take care of it.”
> 
> “Dude, seriously. It's my fault, I shouldn't have snuck up on you like that. Come on.”
> 
> Derek wanted to protest, but he just couldn't find the strength. He nodded at Stiles, then led the way inside his house and to his bathroom.  Stiles didn't say a word, but Derek saw his eyes dart around as he took in the rooms as they passed through. Thankfully he had finally managed to get everything unpacked, and he was generally a neat person, so he wasn't too concerned about what Stiles saw.  
> 
> When they got to the bathroom, Stiles nodded and pointed to the toilet, then placed Derek's mail on the edge of the sink. Derek had forgotten all about dropping it. With a small, sheepish grin and a shrug of his shoulders, Derek sat on the toilet seat, then nodded towards the cabinet under the sink. As Stiles rifled through and started pulling out supplies, Derek tried to keep his eyes on his hands, but, he kept finding himself drawn to the curve of Stiles’ back, or to Stiles’ face as he contemplated between a band-aid or gauze.  Once, Stiles looked up and caught Derek looking and gave him a soft smile before Derek could look away. Derek just knew his blush was all the way down his neck, and he silently cursed at how easily Stiles seemed to get to him.
> 
> “There we go,” Stiles said as he moved over to Derek and crouched down in front of him. He reached out to Derek, then paused and looked at him in question. Derek swallowed, nodded, then held out his hand for Stiles to take.  
> 
> “You don't talk much, do you?” Stiles asked as he began wiping the top of his hand off with a damp, mildly soapy rag.
> 
> "Sometimes.”
> 
> “Hmm, not one of those times now, I take it.” Stiles gently wiped Derek's hand clean with a new rag, then patted it dry. “Okay, Derek - it  _ is  _ Derek, right?”
> 
> Derek nodded.
> 
> “Okay. Well, Derek, now comes the fun part.” He held up the bottle of alcohol and Derek grimaced.  “I know, I know. Let's just make it quick. How's Laci?”
> 
> Derek sucked in a breath as Stiles started dabbing alcohol on his hand, then let it out as he concentrated on Stiles’ face. His eyes were focused on Derek's hand, and Derek almost got lost at the way he kept darting his tongue out to wet his lips.
> 
> “Derek?” Derek shook his head and looked back down at his hand. The scrape wasn't too big, and honestly he could have taken care of it by himself. But, well, he didn't really want to.
> 
> “She's good.  She's, uh, she's coming over next week to drop off my painting.” Stiles looked up at Derek and smiled, and Derek felt his stomach fill with butterflies. His smile was gorgeous. Well. Everything about Stiles was gorgeous, if Derek was being honest.
> 
> Stiles grabbed the antibiotic ointment and dabbed some on a piece of cotton, then carefully placed it over the scrape. His fingers were warm and smooth as he gently wrapped some gauze around his hand.  
> 
> When he was finished, Stiles ran his fingers softly around the edge of the gauze, then jerked his hand back and stood with a small laugh.  
> 
> “You should be good now.”
> 
> Derek looked at his hand, then up at Stiles.  He was rubbing the back of his neck and his cheeks looked a little flushed. When Stiles caught Derek's eye, his cheeks darkened and he turned away with a small smile.
> 
> “I'm just going to go-”
> 
> “Let's get dinner,” Derek blurted out. His heart lurched when he realized what he just said, and he wanted to run away. But he was in his own house, in his bathroom, and Stiles blocked the doorway.  
> 
> “What?” Stiles turned to look at Derek. His eyes were wide and cautious, but he had a small smile.
> 
> “I mean.” Derek took a deep breath. “Would you like to go out to dinner sometime?  With me?”
> 
> “You mean, like a date?”
> 
> Derek nodded. Stiles walked back over to Derek and crouched down in front of him.
> 
> “Derek, I absolutely would love to go out to dinner with you.  As a date.” Derek felt all the tension leave his body as he smiled at Stiles.  The smile he got in return was enough to take his breath away.
> 
> Derek didn't know what would happen down the road, but he had a feeling deep inside that it would all be good. And maybe, just maybe, he would eventually stop injuring himself with his stupid mailbox.
> 
>   
>    
>    
> 


End file.
